


time will tell

by orphan_account



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Canon Divergence, Emotional Manipulation, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Villain Jschlatt (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot Needs a Hug, like PLEASE if you are uncomfy with manipulation take that warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:09:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28008234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: LOWERCASE INTENDEDwhat if wilbur was schlatt's right hand man instead of tubbo?...  what if schlatt had more tricks up his sleeve than initially thought?
Relationships: Jschlatt & Wilbur Soot, Tommyinnit & Tubbo, Wilbur Soot & Dave | Technoblade & Tommyinnit & Phil Watson, but not really - Relationship
Comments: 16
Kudos: 134





	1. dread

**Author's Note:**

> havent written a story that was longer than a oneshot in a long time so i hope that this suffices well for an interesting plot :)

the only emotion he can grasp is fear. this isn't real. they were supposed to win the election. but now that he's here, looking up at the stage with widened eyes at the terrifying president who spews out words that sound like he's rehearsed speeches such as these time and time again, he knows what reality he's in.

_"_ _...is to **revoke** the rights of TOMMYINNIT and TUBBO! get up here, WILBUR! we have work to do, old friend!"_

wait. wait. that isn't right. tommy was his vice president, he didn't run the nation. tommy and tubbo are only children. he doesn't know what's real anymore as he feels his body lift up and walk towards the stage, sparing a terrified glance over at the two shaking children.

 _"you have five minutes to get out of this land before i order them to start firing."_ and that's when they run. before they're out of sight, wilbur sees tommy wrap his arm around tubbo and put his head behind that of the other child, as if ready to take any hits for him. 

it was saddening. they didn't deserve that. 

he wanted to shout, yell at the new president that they're only 16.

but now that they were out of sight, schlatt cleared his throat into the microphone once more. the musician looked at quackity and george, who looked just as uneased as he did. george, who he never sees around, only rarely when the man's not sleeping, looks way too concerned for this, as if he was on the wrong side of the debate.

neither of them expected this.

the rest of the speech drones on, with schlatt's words that were once laced in venom becoming white noise that filled the empty space which had taken up his mind. there was nothing of note to take from his speech. he knows his position now.

he's schlatt's new right hand man after all. 

even if he knows his new position, he's still shocked when the loud cheering from the citizens of **l** 'manberg breaks through the haze that is his mind. the ram hybrid is turned away from the crowd, and he's walking off the stage, harshly grabbing wilbur's arm to pull him along.

"let's go, music boy. your new home awaits you."

right. he doesn't live in the van anymore. he doesn't live in the walls. these are his friends walls now.

the further they walk away from everyone, the more scared the musician gets. they're stopped infront of the white house, a place he remembers making with quackity. _a peace offering._

which is ironic, looking on it now, seeing as this was his new prison.

he can't will the strength to have words leave his mouth to debate with the president, because he's honestly terrified of what the results could be. an entire nation could turn on him.

they walk inside, and he sees the shorter take out a pickaxe, using it to break off a chunk of the wall and press a button.to his shock, an entirely new part of the white house opens up that leads underground. 

it definitely looks different from the rest of the building, walls lined with mossy cobblestone and stone blocks that could easily dig into his feet.

"i don't remember building this, schlatt, is th-" a hand pressed to his mouth as he was harshly pulled forward, down into the abyss of stairs. _okay. don't talk._ something closes behind him, and he thinks for a second. _must have been the entrance to this place._

they're lead down a hallway, footsteps the only audible sound, and wilbur hates how haunting it is. he shouldn't be this scared, but he is. snapped out of his daze once more when rough hands are shoving him into a cell with his handcuffs taken off. 

"you're staying here for the time being, until i can trust you, got it?" 

" _you're staying here,_ blah blah blah, get to the point schlatt. what do you want with m-" before he could finish that statement, the president's hand was pulling a diamond sword out from his side holster and holding it up to wilburs neck through the bars.

" **I** am the ruler of this place now wil. ME! SCHLATT! not YOU, not TOMMY, nobody. IT'S ALL ME. and I will not stand for you talking back to me, especially on your first day here!" he shouted, screams that wilbur has heard time and time again from when they were once friends in the other worlds, when they were in scam businesses, escaping floods, and tnt. 

but he's never heard those words laced with the intent to murder, no matter how heated their fights got. no matter how much wilbur destroyed his house or how much he messed up his plans.

it's scary. and he doesn't like a mad schlatt. so he nods, holding his hands up and stepping back, not knowing what else could be done. the tension in the air seemed thick enough that he swears that the conman could cut through it with the sword.

well, he knows the night's going to end sourly now at least.

schlatt just groans, putting the sword back into the sheath on his belt and turning his back, beginning to walk off until he pauses for a second as if coming to a realization to turn his head to the brit. 

"by the way. if i see you trying to escape or interfere with my plans while you're in there, i won't hesitate to kill you." 

and just like that, he's off again. leaving him all alone in a cell with just his thoughts and the words that were just said to keep him company. they seem suffocating, in a way, knowing that he could just.. die, right there, right now. 

_he's already died once before and he was fine, he thinks. but he doesn't want to risk it._

there was no time to mourn, so he hopped into the small bed that he was given and shut his eyes. sleep soon welcomed him, falling asleep rather easily despite the environment.

\---

the cell is dark when wilbur wakes up. he sees a note from schlatt, precise handwriting, which is a shock. he remembers schlatt's handwriting from the smplive era, in which the two of them were scamming people. it was messy, not thought out.

_hey, wil. i realize that i was a bit harsh yesterday, and i'm sorry._

but this.. 

_when you're awake, we can discuss this over a nice breakfast of some eggs and toast._

_-schlatt_

this was a different person entirely. he can't tell if he likes the change or not, and he's scared. not of the breakfast, not of the eggs for fuck's sake, but of schlatt and his intent. 

he knows the man doesn't change up this fast. when he has an opinion on someone, he keeps it. it's always been a trait he's half liked and half disliked, honestly. when they could meet someone new, it was always clouded by judgement. unless wil is just a special case since they've been longtime friends, but he doesn't think that's all it could be.

all he can do now is wait, and wait some more. he's scared for his new position.

\---

the last thing he hears before passing out after his fourth night of being right hand man, which included signing papers, being a message man, and all around just sticking by his friend, he passes out to hear the sound of footsteps coming closer to his cell, and he feels a sense of fear.

and as the time goes on, he understands why he feels the **dread.**


	2. hope

**\--**

tommy paced around pogtopia, hands entangled in his hair. it wasn't a long journey at all to get to their new home. it was a bit easy to find a space that was somewhat near the general area of manberg, but also wasn't that easy to find without actively looking for them, luckily.

it's been lonely without wilbur, more lonely than the child would like to admit. late nights in l'manberg included the sounds of a guitar playing through the huge area, comforting words as they worked on late night plans to some miscellaneous song playing on the jukebox.

but now, all he and tubbo could do was sit around the jukebox and toss and turn in an attempt to fall asleep with only a pillow and a blanket on the cold stone floors, after losing almost all of their belongings.

"hey tubbo?" tommy asked, voice quiet, but still bouncing off the walls of the huge ravine-esque area they were in.

"what's up?" tubbo replied, looking over from the chest he was idly digging through and tilting his head.

"we need a plan." he began, watching as the other looked at the ground and then back at the blonde, as if taking a second to think. 

"like.. what kind of plan? to get manberg back, or, OH! to build a new farm?" tubbo answered, curiosity lacing his tone throughout all of the questions. he waited for tommy to reply soon after, shoving his hands into his jean pocket and looking at his friend.

"no- i mean, those ARE good ideas, but i mean one to get wilbur back!" the red-shirt wearer responded, waving his arms in the air to put emphasis on his points. it seemed to click when he saw the look in tubbo's eyes. the one of recognition. they both opened their mouths, not realizing they basically had the same idea.

"ooh, what if we called the blade!" tubbo's idea.

"so i was thinking, let's call philza!" tommy's idea.

the room fell silent for a few seconds after that, but they both had knowing smirks on their faces. _operation: get wilbur back is now in play._

after a good nights rest, of course!

\---

"alright tubbo!" tommy said, gently putting his hand down on the makeshift table they created in the middle of the ravine. it wasn't much, as it was a bad recreation of the table they used back in l'manberg, but it was still good enough.

"person one, the blade." he continued, unrolling a piece of paper that was on the middle of the table. 

it revealed a, albeit messy, drawing that the taller had scribbled of how they were going to convince **the** technoblade to help them out with their plan.

-

**tommy's super cool plan (plus tubbo!)**

**step one:** contact TECHNOBLADEEEEEEEEEE   
(my communicator was wiped so tubbo will call him)

 **step two:** we talk and start off the call by shouting that wilbur is in danger so he does NOT hang up*, if he hangs up we are Screwed with a capital S

* if he threatens to hang up, get tubbo to do his Sad Voice

 **step three:** he will then be like "oh look at me im techno im on my wayyy anarchyyy" and then we will have acquired contact with Technoblade which means one person to get the wilbur soot back on our side

-

the brown-haired male cleared his throat when tommy finished presenting his plan, before breaking out into slight laughter. 

"i-i mean, it's a good plan, the way you described it is just funny, you know?" tubbo said in-between laughters, and the other laughed in retun at that. 

"okay, okay, true, i mean, he WOULD say that though!" 

..maybe it was going to take a bit for them to get their plan into action. bad for tommy and tubbo, _but it was good for schlatt._

the two put a few belongings into a travel bag and made their way up to the entrance of pogtopia, leaning against the dirt door that was surprisingly sturdy. the bee enthusiast took out his communicator and scrolled through his contacts before clicking on 'Technoblade'. it took a few rings, before a monotone voice echoed from the phone.

"hello?" 

relief washed over them. step one has gone into action.

"technoooo! my brother, my friend, my-" tommy started with a shout, and he could hear a groan from the other side before tubbo interrupted with a louder shout.

"WILBURSINDANGERWENEEDHELPPLEASE-"

"...wilbur's in danger?" techno asked, his tone immediately changing to one of slight worry. _that's new._

"yeah, he.. schlatt got him, techno! and, you've partnered with big s, you KNOW how scary he can get." the tallest said, starting to pace around the room as he thought more and more of what schlatt could be doing to wilbur. torturing his brother? hurting him? killing hi-

.. no, no need to spiral into that.

he didn't realize that tubbo and techno were talking for a bit about what schlatt did until he heard techno once more.

"...god, tommy, you know i usually don't offer help, but i know schlatt and wilbur's history. i know that he won't be just getting a job. there's definitely going to be a lot of scars involved. i'll be on my way soon." and techno hung up. they stayed in shock for a few seconds. they didn't even have to go through the rest of the plan. 

"so, we have techno now! that's good!" tubbo said with excitement in his voice, but tommy stared at the ground.

"tubbo... if what techno said was true and schlatt and wilbur have so much history to a point where even techno complied, we have to get him back. he could be in severe danger."

"that's why we're calling our friends, right..? it's not just for the nation, remember! it's for wilbur!" the shortest replied with a smile, pumping his fists out in the air in excitement. tommy quite liked the enthusiasm the other had. it was a big mood boost for sure most times.

"yeah. let's do this, big tub." 

they exited pogtopia, staring at the nether portal outside. _their way to technoblade._ the duo took hesitant steps inside, and so began contact with person one.

\---

techno leaned back in the chair that the two had given him to sit in within the small nation. they were sat back at the planning table, this time another drawing made on the blueprint used for 'The Wilbur Plan' as they called it.

"alright, so, person two! philza minecraft!" 

maybe this wasn't going to go all that bad after all, techno noted to himself. they had a secure plan and they had even managed to convince him, albeit with the fear. _they've been friends for years, even before phil adopted him. and with the way tommy described schlatt, being a ruler who banished them from the land and even made the musician look scared up on stage-_

he realized he was zoning out, and snapped back into focus. he needed to pay attention for what they were going to do.

"step one!" tommy excitedly said, pointing to a spot on the blueprint, which was a quick drawing of the three of them (him, techno, and tubbo) as stick figures.

"the t trio, or us, is going to go through a portal to philza minecrafts hardcore world! techno and i have been there before and it's quite easy to find phil, because we just have to shout his name and he'll fly down in panic as to why we're here." 

a pause, and the pink-haired one nodded, along with the bee enthusiast, to ensure they were paying attention.

"and then, when he sees us, we'll just tell the same thing we told techno. wilbur is in danger, and we need help. that'll immediately get him to come with us."

"sounds easy enough!" tubbo.

"aalright then." techno.

"cool! let us set off then, gentlemen! we have a phil to get!" 

the three once more walked into the nether portal, which dimensions had been rigged to lead to the server selector. atop of it read a nametag. _ph1lza's hardcore world._

and soon, person two would join them.

it was a new sense, a sense of **hope.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the last good chapter before it all goes down from here, folks


	3. change

wilbur wakes up to realizing that he woke up in a different position than he fell asleep in, head leaning against a wooden dresser. his eyes immediately widened and he bolted up, seeing his hands chained down onto the ground.

he notes that the chains are made of iron that looks as if it was just mined, meaning this has to be freshly mined. which means he's trapped in here for a long while. no pickaxe, no sword, nothing.

"what the fuck..." he mutters to himself in a panic, trying to struggle out of the chains but to no avail, only met with wrist pains and what he feels to be a few bruises. _this has to be a trap or something. this can't be happening._ his nails dig into his palms so hard that his knuckles turn a ghostly pale compared to the rest of his bruised skin, but it's all he can do to alleviate his fears.

the panic doesn't settle down, but the second sense in his brain makes him realize that he should observe the area he's in. widened eyes frantically glance around the room to inspect something that could possibly tell where he is. oak plank floors, wooden dresser with papers on it, right next to a chair that's pushed all the way in, and- oh, _oh.  
_

hanging on the wall is a picture of schlatt, and next to that, a picture of him. 

_first-term president wilbur soot: 2020 - 2020  
_

an old picture of him. probably taken from back when he was first elected, seeing as it was the one hung up in the hot dog van.

_second-term president jschlatt_

that's where he was. the presidential office.

he sees a shadow in the doorway come closer to him as the breath leaves his lungs. footsteps inch closer to him again, and he freezes in place. _schlatt._

he didn't know that the shadow of his own friend could scare him so much, but here he was. 

it was a scene out of a horror movie if he was being honest. chained down, an ominous shadow in the doorway peering over you, and the feeling as if you're about to be murdered. but to his surprise, instead of being murdered, he saw schlatt kneel down and brush a hand against his cheek with a slight chuckle.

"hey, wil, it's just me." the president says, but wilbur doesn't trust the piercing yellow eyes of the conman. they hold malicious intent, and it's something he's not ready to deal with. the musician turns his gaze down, looking away. the scammer's grip on his face got harsher, another hand going to pull wilbur's chin up so they had direct eye contact.

"eyes up here, wilbur. we need to talk." 

the brit could only let out a shaky nod as the other slowly released the harsh grip that he had on his face, and the hybrid backed up, standing up and grabbing some papers off of the desk before kneeling back down to be eye level with the chained down man.

"now, wilbur, wilbur. you've been doing great, don't get me wrong. but we need to change one thing." the guitarist could only sense danger in his voice. _danger danger run get away punch him_

"w..what thing?" he asked, voice hoarse from a lack of talking. he always silently stood by schlatt, not needing to talk. it was weird having to use his voice now.

"your living spaces, and your position of course! but you wanna know the _real_ reason i have you chained down here wil?" schlatt asked, his eyes having a faint red glow to them now. wilbur would be lying if he said they weren't slightly mesmerizing.

"why?" the guitarist asked, voice starting to slowly but surely come back. 

"we need to make a _deal._ "

silence, and then wilbur quietly responded, still looking into the other's eyes with a trained glare. there were so many red flags, yet he couldn't look away from the other. they stayed in the quiet for a while, neither being able to come up with things to say, only awkward glances before the businessman cleared his throat and continued.

"the deal will just be that you can live in the white house.. as LONG as you obey the rules and don't attempt to escape. and i mean live up here here, not in that mossy old basement. so no unsupervised late night trips, if leaving, come back by 12am, all that." schlatt's tone was sickly sweet, laced with care and something else that the brown-haired man couldn't quite put his eye on. 

the more he stared into schlatt's eyes, the safer he felt, and before he knew it the other was holding his hand out.

"do we have a deal?"

...

wilbur held his own hand out, shaking schlatt's hand, who of which responded with a laugh after drawing his hand back from the ex-president's, standing up and dusting his suit off.

"t'was a pleasure doing business with you, loverboy."

and just like that, he was gone. but suddenly, the room around wilbur felt much more comforting. he felt safe. 

(he didn't feel the pulsing in his head, or the way his mind was screaming at him muffled thoughts to _run run get away from schlatt_ ), as he waited for the other to come back to unchain him.

like schlatt said, it was just going to be a minor **change**.


End file.
